


L'Tak Terai

by Horolojium



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Dyscalculia, Dyslexia, Gen, Vulcan Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:53:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24331636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horolojium/pseuds/Horolojium
Summary: On his way to speak at the esteemed Vulcan Learning Center, Spock gets waylaid by a child with a rock. The aftermath is a discussion of numbers and letters and looking glasses.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	L'Tak Terai

The Learning Center is the jewel of ShiKahr. It is the largest, most ornate of all the buildings that hang in the shadow of the Sha’Kahr mountains. Every Vulcan family hopes that their child will pass the excruciating entrance exams and earn a place in what is discretely referred to as a prep school for the Vulcan Science Academy. Because although Vulcan law insists on equal opportunities in education for every youth, it is common knowledge that remnants of the old ways hold sway in certain institutions. 

Once a child has earned their place in the Learning Center at age four, they don the grey robes that mark them as beginners in their path to knowledge and start on the rigorous standard curriculum. The curriculum is not taught through instruction of singular topics, but as several concurrent streams of information. This serves both to train the young Vulcan mind to process data as efficiently as possible, and to weed out those who cannot cope with the stress of the instruction style. 

The isolation of the learning basins increases this stress tenfold. The purpose of the learning basins is to immerse the child in the act of learning, and to remove any distractions such as socializing, daydreaming, or noticing the passage of time. It is also meant to discourage any discussion of individual progress amongst the children, but the children have no need to compare themselves to one another, because the Tutor announces the rank of each child at the end of every week.  
This is the thirty third week in a row that T’Vir has ranked last in her class.

The Tutor has informed her that if she does not improve her performance by the next week, a more capable student will take her place. The waiting list for the Learning Center is three hundred long, and T’Vir has no reason to believe that the Tutor would lie to her. This ultimatum prompted an inexcusable emotional response, and the Tutor sent her to the Garden of Silence to meditate on her behavior.

When she arrives at the Garden of Silence, T’Vir does attempt to meditate atop one of the small dais constructed for just such a purpose. But her mind is still full of chaos twenty minutes later, and the Vulcan girl abandons her meditation in favor of throwing rocks against the tall stone walls of the garden.  
-  
It is the beginning of the wet season on Vulcan, and so Spock’s walk from his accommodations is filled with the sight and smell not only of a city in motion, but of the beauty of Vulcan in bloom. The pungent fragrance of the ancient, flowering ashir trees mix with the smell of street vendor’s wares, and Spock brushes a bright green blossom from his uniform as he enters the gates of the Learning Center. 

Nothing has changed in the fifty years since Spock graduated from the Learning Center. The ashir trees are the same, the spiraling meditation gardens are the same, and the feeling of dread in his stomach is the same. It passes quickly, as emotions brought on by instinct often do. 

He swore to himself fifty years ago that he would not return to this place unless forced, and yet his presence here now is purely voluntary. The Enterprise is in orbit for several days to resupply, and the Tutor of the Learning Center contacted Spock to request that he speak at the graduation of this year’s cohort. Spock agreed, although if pressed about his reasons for doing so, he would struggle to answer. But no one had questioned him, and so here he is, early, and in his blue dress uniform. 

Just as he is about to descend the massive staircase leading into the Learning Center, a sound emanating from the Garden of Silence piques his interest. Spock walks the small, curling path down the side of the building, and slips into the Garden. It is just as he remembers, swaths of red stones raked into concentric spirals meant to represent the layers of the mind, planters of yellow flora similar to Terran cacti, and six raised meditation dais scattered throughout the small courtyard. 

The girl hurling rocks at the wall is new, however. 

She doesn’t seem to notice Spock, and he observes her for a moment. She looks to be approximately seven years of age, and the arrangement of her braids signals that she is of the House of Kethir, and has not yet undergone her kahs-wan. 

“What is your grievance with the wall, young one?” Spock says, walking up the narrow path to the girl. He would not normally intervene in the affairs of others, but the sight of a child so clearly in distress, in a place that caused Spock so much distress of his own, compels him to act other than as he normally would.  
She whirls around, dropping a stone behind her back. Her eyes widen a fraction as she takes in his bright blue uniform, and Spock waits patiently as she discovers his identity. 

“I regret that you were to witness my display of emotion, S’chn T’gai Spock,” she says, cheeks tinged green with embarrassment in a further display of emotion. 

Spock inclines his head. “There is no need to apologize. But I inquire again as to your grievance with the wall, and your name.”

“My name is T’Vir, daughter of T’Maia of the House of Kethir,” she rattles off. Her eyes drop, and she says to the ground, “My grievance is not with the wall.”

Spock had deduced as much, but he simply nods and asks, “Will you walk with me? I have not seen the Garden of Silence in many years, and much has changed.” 

T’Vir tilts her head at the non-sequitur, but she agrees to show him around the garden. As they walk, T’Vir points out the blooms on the various flora and the designs in the gravel shoals. Then, she shares, in a small voice, “I am to be expelled from the Learning Center, as my academic performance is consistently subpar.”

It is rare for someone to be dismissed from the Learning Center, but not impossible. “What is the reason behind this decision?”

Shrinking in on herself, T’Vir mutters, “I am incapable of understanding mathematics. My deficiency prevents me from successfully completing the curriculum of the Learning Center, and it is the logic of the Tutor that a child who cannot perform basic arithmetic should not remain at such a prestigious institution.”

Spock takes a moment to consider. There is something behind the studied calm of T’Vir’s statement that reminds him of his own experiences, but with a fundamental variable changed. He pursues this hypothesis by asking a question that will determine if this is true. 

“Have you attempted to learn mathematics through alternative methods, such as the Terran, Andorian, or Deltan pedagogies?”

Dr. McCoy would call the look T’Vir gives Spock ‘a death glare’. Her small face, blank to non-Vulcans, is pinched with fury. “Do you presume my intelligence to be so lacking that I would not try every method available to me to overcome my deficiency? Do you presume my family would not hire any tutor, mind healer, doctor, who told them that they could help?”

His hypothesis is confirmed. But just to be sure, Spock presses, “Can you describe to me your experiences when attempting to perform arithmetic?”

T’Vir walks to a bench and sits, her feet dangling above the ground. She folds her hands in her lap, and takes several cycles of breath to answer. Spock sits beside her, and waits. 

“Numbers do not exist in my mind. I know that the manipulation of numbers runs every system of our world, but I do not know how. I am given an arithmetic problem so simple that my brother, who is three months and two days of age, can solve with ease, and I do not know what I am seeing. I know, theoretically, that seven plus seven equals fourteen, but I cannot explain how, or why this is so.” She looks down at her hands and whispers, “My peers are learning trans warp theory, and I cannot add seven plus seven. ”

And there is it is. Spock suppresses the memories of his own experiences for now, and says gently, “T’Vir, do you know of L’tak Terai?”

“I know that it is a human affliction, but I do not know the specifics of the disease.”

Spock corrects, “L’tak Terai is not a disease, T’Vir, nor is it symbolic of a flaw in your character. It is a difference of neurobiology that impacts the ability to process information. And despite the hopes of the High Council, recent studies have proven that it does not only present itself in humans.” 

He pauses, and holds the gaze of his companion to make sure that she is listening. “I have L’tak Terai. My mother passed on the genes to me, and it showed as I was learning to read.”

T’Vir’s eyes grow wide. Spock can guess the course of her thoughts, he has only experienced variations of the same response from any Vulcan who learns of his ‘affliction.”

“But you are one of the most honored graduates of the Learning Center,” T’Vir says, clearly suspicious. 

Spock raises an eyebrow. “Am I honored for my performance at the Learning Center, or for later achievements?”

When T’Vir does not respond, Spock shares more of his story. “When my peers began to read in Standard and Golic, it became apparent that my progress was not at the level expected of me. My peers moved on to read research papers and the principles of Surak, and I struggled with the Terran readers for young children. Spelling was an exercise in futility, and although I learned to read, I did not do so until much later than is normal for Vulcan or Human children.”

He remembers nights spent in agony, tracing a finger over the same line of text over and over again as he sounded out the words. He remembers the exhaustion of getting through a single paragraph, only to find out there were twelve more left in his assigned reading. He remembers the disapproval radiating from his father, the frequent spoken and unspoken, “You are not putting forth the required effort. You are already set apart from your peers, this shortcoming is unacceptable.”

“You are successful in your career,” says T’Vir. “How did you overcome L’tak Terai to become an officer of Starfleet?” 

Spock senses the hidden question within her question- _How can I be successful as well?_ , and endeavors to answer both. “I did not overcome L’tak Terai. I grew to understand and accept that my mind is, to use a Terran idiom, programmed differently than the norm. But before I could reach a level of understanding, I endured twelve years of unfavorable social conditions.”

A shadow falls on T’Vir’s face, and Spock knows that she understands exactly what he means by ‘unfavorable social conditions.’ Vulcan has changed since he was a child, but there are some elements of childhood that remain cruelly consistent. 

“I learned to work with my condition, rather than fight it,” Spock continues. “For example, I was made aware of auditory translations of my textbooks, and the eidetic memory of our people allowed me to memorize what I could not listen to.” 

T’Vir considers his words. Then she argues, quite astutely, “Your solutions are sufficient for a problem with reading comprehension, but I do not see a parallel to my own,” she struggles for a moment, “L’tak Terai.”

Spock does not believe in unnecessary lies, so he agrees. “That is true. I believe that the presentation of your L’tak Terai will impact your life in ways I cannot know. But I am certain that you will find, as I did, strategies that will aid you in navigating the struggles you face.”

“What am I to do?” T’Vir asks, hopelessness coloring her control. “I am a failure, a disgrace to my House. What place is there for a Vulcan who cannot perform even the most basic of mathematics?” Bitterly, she adds, “I do not know how my peers can say they follow the principles of IDIC, when evidence shows the opposite.”

Vulcans do not believe in shielding their children from the unpleasant realities of life, but Spock feels a pang of regret that T’Vir has discovered this one so soon.  
“I do not have an answer,” Spock admits. “You have observed one of the fundamental flaws in our society, and it is one that I do not know if we will ever truly solve. But I advise you not to condemn your peers, but to consider that they too are learning to find their place on the path of Logic.”

In lieu of a response, T’Vir slips off the bench and walks to the nearest rock display, her hands clasped behind her back. Spock gives her time to think, and admires the beauty of a nearby lushek plant. 

Soon, T’Vir turns back to face him, her dark eyes serious. “I have considered your words, S’chn T’Gai Spock. I will have to meditate upon them to come to a true understanding, but my shallow response will inform the outcome of that meditation.”

Spock gestures for her to go on. 

“My parents desire for me to join them at the Vulcan Science Academy when I have completed my studies at the Learning Center. My failure to do so will bring shame upon them. I do not wish for this to occur.” She hesitates, and Spock can sense the tentative strands of her argument falling prey to uncertainty.

“T’Vir, what is it that you desire to do with your life?” Spock asks gently. His success has a great deal to do with the fact that his mother only ever wanted him to find fulfillment, in whatever field he chose. 

She blinks. “I do not know,” she says slowly. “No one has asked me that question before.”

Spock replies, “Earlier in our discussion, you asked what place you have in Vulcan society. I believe the answer to that question and the one you must now ask yourself have the same answer, although you will not find it satisfactory.”

T’Vir places her hands on her hips, and glares at him. “Please tell me this answer, and I will determine how satisfactory I find it to be.”

Knowing that he is going to disappoint his young friend, Spock answers with his mother’s words. “There is a place in the universe for us all. Each of us must find that place in our own way, in our own time, with the gifts that are uniquely ours.”

Before T’Vir can answer, a tall, pale Vulcan glides down the path and into the Garden of Silence. The Tutor has not aged since Spock left the Learning Center, and her unusually light eyes are just as cold as he remembers. 

“Commander Spock,” intones the Tutor flatly. “Your presence is required in the Hall of Voices.”

She looks down at T’Vir, and barely hides an expression of distaste. “I regret that your time at the esteemed Learning Center has been monopolized by our least adept student.”

Spock looks down at T’Vir, and sees the same humiliation and rage he felt as a child evident on her face. 

“I do not know to what student you are referring,” says Spock smoothly. “As I have only spent time with T’Vir, a most promising pupil in the areas of rhetoric and logic.”

The Tutor’s eye twitches, and she turns away and marches up the path with a flourish of burgundy robes. Spock follows, as it would be in poor taste to fail to attend the graduation ceremony. 

But as he leaves, he hears a quiet, “Thank you.” Spock glances over his shoulder, and in very Human form, gives her a small smile. 

When he appears in front of the graduating class of the Learning Center, Spock takes a moment to reflect on the events of the morning. As he steps up to the podium, he discreetly straightens the cuffs of his dress uniform, holds his head high, and delivers a very different speech than the one he had written for the occasion. 

Twenty minutes later, Spock leaves the Hall of Voices and three hundred stunned young Vulcans behind, with utter certainty that he will never be invited to speak there again. 

A golden presence slips into his mind, laughing. _That was some speech, ashayam. Do you think they've blinked yet?_

_Thank you, t’hy’la. And if I were in the habit of guessing, I would say the probability is low._

Spock agrees to meet Jim at the bakery his husband has become fond of during their stay in ShiKahr, but before he leaves, he pulls out his comm unit.  
“Hello, Mother. I have a request to make of you, one I believe you will find most compelling.”  
\--  
Two weeks later, a package arrives at the Kethir estate, addressed to T’Vir. It is the shape of a PADD, but much heavier, and wrapped in brown paper. T’Vir carefully removes the paper, and nearly drops what she finds inside. 

A Terran paper book, bound in coarse red fabric, titled ‘Through the Looking Glass’, with a note attached that reads:  
To T’Vir,  
May you find your own way through the looking glass.  
-S  
\--  
Ten years later, the dedication of the very first book on Vulcan learning disabilities reads:  
To a stranger in a garden, who told me that I was not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I don't own these characters and I make no money from this work. Thank you for reading, and if you know someone with dyslexia or dyscalculia, maybe remind them how awesome they are.


End file.
